Herman Ouseley's joke
Time to try and blog every day again, like Iain Dale told me...
To the farewell dinner of the Commission for Racial Equality this evening (it's to be merged into the new Commission for Equality and Human Rights.) The CRE's former chairman Herman Ouseley claimed he was once called as a witness for a policeman accused of telling a racist joke. The cop said it couldn't be racist because he had heard it from Herman Ouseley. And this was the joke.
An airliner started a steep dive to the ground. To lose weight, the pilot threw out all the luggage, but still it dived, so he got on the tannoy and told the passengers that some of them would have to jump out, so he could save the rest.
"Now, to show this is above board and there's no racism, we're going to do it alphabetically. When you hear yourself, jump. Right: All Asians and Africans."
A dozen people jumped, but still the plane dived, so he shouted "All Blacks" then "All coloureds" and still it dived. In the back of the plane a small black boy whispered to his father: "What are we, Dad?" And his father whispered back: "Today, we're Zulus."
Ouseley's speech was the one light spot in a dreadful two-and-a-half hour marathon of speechifying. At seven we were told "Dinner is served" and we all sat expectantly in our places and heard dreary speech after dreary speech. One speaker talks of "the battle against racial equality" (she meant, of course, the battle for racial equality - at least, I assume she did.) The last formal speaker spent what seemed like weeks introducing highlights of the CRE's history in a monotonous shout, amplified to unbearable levels by the huge speaker above my table.
By the time the standup comedian came on, at 9 pm after two hours of this, when no one had had a morsel to eat, she didn't stand a chance - though I'm told she was very good. I had long since repaired to the bar, where my friend Lionel Morrison, the CRE's first ever director of communications, told me the history was not only tedious but also inaccurate.
The dinner, when it came, was excellent, and I left the younger members of staff dancing, energetically and imaginatively, all their cares forgotten along with the pompous tedium they had been forced to undergo as the price for the dinner and the dancing.
To the farewell dinner of the Commission for Racial Equality this evening (it's to be merged into the new Commission for Equality and Human Rights.) The CRE's former chairman Herman Ouseley claimed he was once called as a witness for a policeman accused of telling a racist joke. The cop said it couldn't be racist because he had heard it from Herman Ouseley. And this was the joke.
An airliner started a steep dive to the ground. To lose weight, the pilot threw out all the luggage, but still it dived, so he got on the tannoy and told the passengers that some of them would have to jump out, so he could save the rest.
"Now, to show this is above board and there's no racism, we're going to do it alphabetically. When you hear yourself, jump. Right: All Asians and Africans."
A dozen people jumped, but still the plane dived, so he shouted "All Blacks" then "All coloureds" and still it dived. In the back of the plane a small black boy whispered to his father: "What are we, Dad?" And his father whispered back: "Today, we're Zulus."
Ouseley's speech was the one light spot in a dreadful two-and-a-half hour marathon of speechifying. At seven we were told "Dinner is served" and we all sat expectantly in our places and heard dreary speech after dreary speech. One speaker talks of "the battle against racial equality" (she meant, of course, the battle for racial equality - at least, I assume she did.) The last formal speaker spent what seemed like weeks introducing highlights of the CRE's history in a monotonous shout, amplified to unbearable levels by the huge speaker above my table.
By the time the standup comedian came on, at 9 pm after two hours of this, when no one had had a morsel to eat, she didn't stand a chance - though I'm told she was very good. I had long since repaired to the bar, where my friend Lionel Morrison, the CRE's first ever director of communications, told me the history was not only tedious but also inaccurate.
The dinner, when it came, was excellent, and I left the younger members of staff dancing, energetically and imaginatively, all their cares forgotten along with the pompous tedium they had been forced to undergo as the price for the dinner and the dancing.
posted by Francis Beckett at
4:31 PM
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